Innsbruck, Austria

I haven’t done one of these in a while, but I’ve had several places in line to be written about. For some reason I leave it open on a tab for months and then I just delete it. This time around I thought I’d actually write about the place.

Once again it came up as one of my lock screen backgrounds and I was in love. I’ll probably never get to travel abroad, but this is one place I’d like to visit. Something tells me it’s kinda swanky though, and I’m most definitely not swanky.

What I saw on Windows 10.

What a view! Innsbruck is the capital city of Tyrol and the fifth-largest city in Austria. It is in the Inn valley, where it sits right in between mountains, namely the Alps. It’s such a nice place that many winter games are held there. Innsbruck translates to ‘Bridge over the River Inn.’

I Am A Racist

No, it’s not what you might be thinking. But first, let me tell you what just happened.

I was outside with my dad, just hanging out. I looked around and there was a stink bug on a box on our porch. My dad said, “Flick it!” and without hesitation, I did so, happily. I flicked his hard, stinky ass across the porch, where he bounced off of the house and hit the ground with a knock.

In that moment, I realized, I enjoyed it. I was paying him back for all of the stink bugs that have been coming into my house for the last couple of years. A never ending onslaught of nasty ass stink bugs.

And then I thought, well what if this particular stink bug that I flicked had never been into my house, and what if he was never going to come into my house? I just assaulted him for the crimes of others. I hate an entire species for the actions of a few of that species. I am racist against that species.

I am entomoist, or racist against insects.

It’s true, I hate them all. And I feel disgusted by myself. I never thought I’d be so ignorant as to be a racist, but I can’t help it, it was how I was raised.

My wife even concocted a death device for the stink bugs that travel into our house, and we stay vigilant in killing them. All season long.

She took a 20 ounce pop bottle, cut the top dome off, flipped it upside down and stuck it inside the bottom half. Then she taped them together with duct tape at the cut. Inside the bottle she put water and a little bit of dish liquid, because that kills stink bugs. When we see one, we scoop it up in that bottle and it slides down the neck and into the death solution where it basically suffocates to death. And we love every minute of it.

So please, don’t judge me. I’m trying to be better. I just can’t be. Not when it comes to stink bugs.

My Endorsement

We’re into politics now, so I figured I’d join in the fun. Since politics is a bunch of shit, what better way to talk about it than to talk about shit? And what better way to talk about shit than to endorse a plunger?! So that’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to endorse a plunger.

Currently where I live we have a smallish toilet. It’s not meant for a big guy like me, which I can tell when I sit on it. Maybe a toddler, or a teen. Definitely not somebody who’s overweight. And most definitely not someone who shits out a baby every time he goes.

Because of this, I’m constantly clogging the toilet. So much so, in fact, that I broke our plunger. Yeah, our toilet sucks at sucking, and often gets clogged. I can’t blame it, my shits are legendary. But I used the plunger we had so much that it broke. The plunger broke off of the handle at the handle. And it was just one of those regular, every day, brown plungers. Those are archaic. Nobody should use those plungers. Not anymore!

No. I have discovered a new way of living. When I went to the local hardware store and went to their plunger aisle, I saw the light. And it was shining on a Korky Beehive Plunger. Behold.

A legend. A God. Tip the scales in your favor.

The opening at the bottom is specially formed to fit ANY toilet. Not all toilets are made the same, therefore a regular, round, brown plunger just won’t work on all toilets. This bad boy does. The Beehive is the way to go for your next expungement. With the brown, round plunger, I used to have to plunge my ass off just to get any results, and that was because even though the toilet was small, the plunger didn’t fit entirely over the opening of the toilet. But the Beehive can suck a basketball through a garden hose. It’s almost unfair to your clog. I’m pretty sure if you plunge it enough times you’ll clear all the pipes in your neighborhood out.

Lil Horror Stories On Store Shelves Now!

Hey guys, I just signed a deal with the incense store Wildberry in Oxford, OH near Miami University! Now you can stop at their location in town and pick up a copy of my book, as well as all of your favorite incense, beautiful hand-blown glass pipes, excellent CBD products, and much more!

And of course, if you’re nowhere near there, you can always pick up a copy or an ebook of Lil Horror Stories on Amazon!

Directions to Wildberry

Strange News Sunday: Komodos And Barrels

I wrote once before about people doing stupid shit and being rewarded for it by being named a world record holder. Like a group of people who decided to stand in formation and look from above as a giant clover. Or a Pi symbol. And then I wrote of the idiots who weren’t clever enough to think up something stupid and create their own world record, but they redid those aforementioned attempts and BROKE the previous records.

Wonderful.

Well guess what. Someone else decided to break a record, and it’s his OWN record! But the first time he set the record, he was breaking it from someone else.

Man Breaks Own Record For Sitting In A Barrel At The Top Of A Pole

How the hell did the original guy come up with that? Pick one from Category A, and one from Category B. See how many fun combinations you can make!

Eighty feet, eh? I’m going to do him one better. I’m going to do 81 feet for twice as long as he did it.

What’s that?

Oh, he’s still breaking his record? And he’s been up there 2 months? And I’m scared of heights? Fuck that, I’m good.

The original record was 54 days by some British person. Vernon Kruger first broke that record in 1997 with 67 days. Now he’s going for 80.

He gets food, his bed, and his bodily waste all given to and taken away from him via bucket on a pulley. He has a crew working for him, people to talk to on the ground, and apparently nothing else to do.

So uh, good for him?

Running Down A Dream

Actually I was driving in the dream and I fell down in a way, but that was what popped in my head and it’s a damn good song. iuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu
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Sorry, my cat climbed upon my laptop and laid down. I’m sure, if you have a cat, that you’ve experienced the same thing at some point. It’s what cats do. They’re jerks. I tried taking a picture of him on my laptop but he’s so fucking black that my phone camera wouldn’t pick him up. There was just this void of nothingness.

Anyway, I had this dream last night and it was pretty intense.

I was driving down the highway through the middle of a city, but the highway was elevated a great deal. I was driving my old 1996 Dodge Neon, and it was a stick shift. I only mention that part because it was a stick in the dream, as well as a stick in real life. But that’s how I knew it was my Neon.

We were speeding, because we were racing with the other drivers, and I downshifted to speed up. We curved around some buildings one way then curved around more the other way.

In the car with me was my dad in the passenger seat and someone was in the back, though I don’t remember who it was. And even though we were racing, we were headed towards a particular place, but I didn’t know how to get there.

Suddenly we came around a bend and the four lanes of the highway split into four exits and I had to pick the right one to get to where we were going. I yelled to my dad, “which way do I go?” He had no idea, but just as we got to one exit he told me to take it. It was like pulling up onto a sidewalk, but it turned into a lane.

The exits split up the cars and now I was in a race with those who took the same exit as I did. We went around another bend and the lane I was in ended and there was nothing left, no blockade, no signs, no nothing, the road just ended. I flew off the end of the road and fell the two hundred or so feet to the ground below.

This scene is probably why I had that dream.

I looked down and saw a house but it was tiny. I saw trees and they were tiny, too. But they all came rushing up to meet me. Behind them was a lake and I hoped to land there. I could feel myself being terrified that I was going to die.

We hit the ground, amazingly gentle considering the fall, but still hard, and we rolled into the lake. Then I was standing on the bank of the lake with my dad and the back seat passenger, and we were all dry, and I said to them, “I can’t believe we survived that.”

Then I thought, did we survive that, or are we all dead now looking at ourselves sinking into the lake inside the car?

Then I woke up.